


The Call

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [58]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Healing, family support, firefighter Jamie, first responder, mentions of character death/loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 18:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Jamie's department gets a call and the response is not what anyone planned.





	The Call

                                                            

Claire paced the bedroom with a fitfully crying Brianna. The toddler was trying her darndest to stay awake in spite of it being past her naptime and aside from the fact that she was incredibly crabby and in need of the nap. Faith had fallen nearly forty-five minutes ago even with the ruckus. Usually, Claire didn’t give in to her younger daughter’s fussing, but Bree had been sick and had an ear infection and Claire just couldn’t let her cry for long, not knowing for certain if she was being obstinate or if she was feeling poorly. So here she was, rocking her grouchy toddler.

“Sassenach?” came a whispered voice from the hallway outside the nursery.

Bree stiffened in her arms and stopped crying.

“Da? Dadada?” she held her arms out in the direction of Jamie’s voice, opening and shutting her tiny hands.

Claire let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. “We’re right here. I was trying to get her to go down for a nap but-”

“I’ll take her.”

He abruptly swooped into the darkened room and had Bree scooped into his arms before his wife could reply.

“Thank you,” she whispered before kissing him and leaving him to put Bree down for her nap.

She felt _funny_. Like being nervous for a big event except there was none. Like having a tickle in her nose yet not being able to sneeze. Like a cold breeze blowing up her spine. Her husband did put the girls down for their naps on the days she worked so there was nothing out of the ordinary in that he was _doing_ it. He usually didn’t take over if he’d just gotten off work though. Those were “her” days to take care of things. Something was _off_.

She quietly peeked back into the darkened nursery. Jamie was softly crooning to Bree in Gaelic. Their red hair was so similar it was difficult to know whose curls were whose. But Brianna was still in his arms already, her breathing even and slow, her chubby cheek smashed against her da’s strong chest as she rested peacefully in his arms. One hand with dimpled knuckles clutched Jamie’s shirt.

It always surprised Claire how powerful and visceral her emotions were when she witnessed Jamie like this. Her strong, powerful husband, cradling someone precious in his arms. The way he embraced their little girl as if she were fragile as a delicate butterfly. How tenderly he rocked her and calmed her fierce spirit.

Claire backed away and waited in the hallway, heart thundering, for several long minutes until her husband finally came out of the nursery and took her into his arms.  

“Come be with me,” she whispered against him. She often said it that way. Not “Come with me” as a demand, nor “Come talk with me” as if to force words that weren’t ready. Just _be_.

“Ye remember about our ninety-ninety rule, aye?” he asked her.

They’d silently walked to the couch where he’d thrown himself, long limbs extending end to end, and had pulled her to him. Now as they lay in a tangle of limbs, he began to speak.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed in response. At their station they had to be out the door on a call in ninety seconds or less ninety percent of the time or more. She understood how crucial those seconds were to a first responder.

He began again.

“We made it out in time. Had no trouble getting there. Aid was on the way from a different station. ‘Twas all as it should have been.” He fidgeted with her riotous curls listlessly. “But when we got there it was clear that we were no’ in time to do anything.”

Though she expected to feel his body rigid and tense, strung taut with the tension of whatever he’d experienced, he was so near to her that she couldn’t tell where the boundaries of their own bodies were. They were just one.

She trailed a finger gently up and down his arm and whispered to him. “What happened, Jamie?”

“It,” he faltered. “‘Twas a wee lass, older than Bree but younger than Faith by a bit. We all kent it, that we were too late when we got there. God, Claire,” he breathed. “Her mam was there and I’ll never forget the sound of her cry.”

She knew all too well what he meant. Working at the hospital she’d experienced similar things. It wasn’t easy. It never would be.

So she waited.

“I’ll be alright once again, ye ken? We both chose paths where we would have to face this, aye? I’m no’ ready to talk much about this, it just,” he paused, struggling for words. “It made me realize what I have.”

He nudged her so that he could look at his wife face to face before continuing.

“I never even knew what love felt like until I met ye, _Sorcha_. I thought I did, but it was a poor copy compared to what we truly have. Then when we had Faith and then Brianna, _Claire_ I’ve naught the words to explain what it’s like to be someone’s da! You, the lasses, ye are my whole world.”

“I’m listening,” she nodded her head when he stopped talking.

“It’s no’ so much that I’m imaginin’ the disasters that may befall ye, though I can do that more easily than I’d care to admit right now,” he revealed. “It’s more that wi’ each day I live, I realize how much I _need_ you. I realize how much all of you mean.”

“‘To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken,’” she quoted to him in a whisper. “It’s worth it, isn’t it? We love you, the girls and I.”

She whispered once more, “ _I love you_ , James Fraser.”


End file.
